Red tape clogs plan to give town indoor plumbing

March 10, 2006|By Amy Gardner, The Washington Post

Less than a mile down the road from a million-dollar emblem of greater Washington's housing boom, Emma Howard and her son, Bishop, tote drinking water from neighbors or buy it at the Safeway 8 miles away. They scrape their plates into a slop bucket on the kitchen floor and wash them in a basin of boiled water.

And they relieve themselves in a wood-planked outhouse across the back yard.

The Howards and 15 other people live in the western Loudoun County, Va., hamlet of Willisville. Surrounded by rolling pastures, horse-country manors and new mansions--many with four or more bathrooms--most of Willisville has existed without indoor plumbing since it was founded just after the Civil War, when freed slave Heuson Willis bought a cabin on 3 acres for $100.

It was terrible land then, and it is terrible today: soggy, heavy with clay, not fit for crops, pastures or septic tanks. But on the eve of the 21st Century, Loudoun County officials promised to help. In 1999, the county received a state loan to build a small sewage treatment plant in Willisville.

Seven years later, at least six residents live with outhouses and no running water; an additional nine live in houses with failing septic systems. Construction on the sewage plant has not begun, and its projected cost has more than doubled, from $250,000 to about $600,000. Design delays, bureaucratic hurdles and government neglect have caused the Willisville On-Site Wastewater Treatment and Disposal Project to founder, county officials say.

"It's a travesty, I think," said Rev. Reginald Early, who moved to Middleburg from Portsmouth, Va., in 2000 to become pastor of Willisville Chapel, which is among the properties with substandard plumbing.

All the more outrageous, he said, is the proximity of luxurious new houses. Angela King, 43, can see one through the woods from her back door. King, who grew up in Willisville, is among its luckier residents; she has a failing system rather than none. But across the street, rented portable toilets stand outside the Smiths' and the Lees' homes, pumped clean by a service truck once a week. Family members keep chamber pots in their rooms at night.

Life without a bathroom

Ethel Smith, 77, still bathes in an aluminum tub on her kitchen floor. Howard, who has trouble walking to an outhouse, uses a hospital-style commode in her bedroom.

"It's just something we happen to have," said Smith, a retired teacher. "I haven't had a bathroom all my life."

The fact that an affluent, fast-growing county--where leaders plan to spend a half-billion dollars building 15 schools in the next six years--has allowed one of the smallest capital projects on its books to drag on for so long has perplexed not only the people of Willisville but also Loudoun officials.

"I'm extremely disappointed that it has taken so long," said Supervisor James Burton, whose district includes Willisville. "Clearly, staff dropped the ball and let it slip through the cracks, and I think that is unfortunate."

County officials say the project became entangled in the red tape of more than a half-dozen local and state agencies. Designing a tiny sewage plant to serve 12 parcels was more complicated than anticipated. Regulatory approval was required on health, environmental and highway right-of-way issues, slowing the effort.

"We did not dedicate the staff resources to follow the project through," said Paul Brown, an assistant to the county administrator overseeing capital projects.

That is changing, Brown said. Staff turnover on the Willisville project last year brought it to the attention of County Administrator Kirby Bowers. So did complaints from Burton, who for at least two years has been pressuring county staff to account for delays.

The fact that the cost has grown, requiring an additional appropriation from the county this month, also has given the project urgency, Brown said.

Six months ago, Bowers named Brown to supervise the project to the end.

`A little disheartening'

Residents say they can't help but ask themselves: Was tiny Willisville, a modest, aging black community, too easy to forget?

"We have had patience with the sewer, but this really is ridiculous," said Carol Lee, 50, who rents a small bungalow at the western end of Willisville. "When it snows, we're not the first to get our road cleared. When the lights go off, we're not the first to get them back on. But when you see houses getting built with God knows how many bathrooms in them, and you only live 5 miles away, that's a little disheartening."

Lee's home is one of seven in Willisville with septic tanks and indoor plumbing, but county officials say all the systems are substandard. The proof is outside her window: a sodden, poorly draining yard that swallows an inch of shoe with every gooey step.

Lee and her daughter, Jennifer Thompson-Grant, 30, a deputy clerk in Loudoun County Circuit Court, have become the spokeswomen for Willisville, leaning on county officials for progress reports and speaking out at meetings.

Brown has pledged to the residents of Willisville that the plant will be built this year. He has a firm schedule: bid documents ready within a month and project finished by December.

Brown is holding monthly community meetings to keep residents up to date.

Residents like the signs of activity at the western end of Welbourne Road. On a recent morning, a crew worked with heavy equipment where the treatment plant will be. As they drilled to gather soil data, Lee watched with a look of satisfaction.